


Mud Time

by tipplerdoeswords



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: slice of life going strong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 13:10:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18195017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tipplerdoeswords/pseuds/tipplerdoeswords
Summary: Bloodhound is that one weird kid in elementary school who eats bugs. This is a good thing.





	Mud Time

The heavy rain started three days ago. It alternated between a depressing drizzle and a pounding sheet of water that soaked through all layers of clothing in under a minute. Practice fields turned to mush. Legends snapped at each other as they traveled through the corridors in small packs. Squad assignments had been released in anticipation of the new games.  
  
But eventually the clouds cleared. Everyone gave a sigh of relief and went outside to beat up practice dummies.  
  
This was how Anita Williams found herself with cold water seeping into her supposedly waterproof combat boots, waiting for her smoke to clear off the field so Gibraltar could use his bubble to cover their position. As she waited, Bangalore was distracted by the squad's third member, who was at the edge of the field, where the grass gave way to a few trees.    
  
Bloodhound was hunched over on the ground at the edge of one of the many puddles left over from the rain. Gibraltar turned to follow Bangalore's gaze, shield deployer clutched in his hands.  
  
"It's probably some incredibly important ritual." said Bangalore. Doubt was written across her face.  
  
"You're right. Let's not disturb them." agreed Gibraltar. "Though I do wish they would practice with us."  
  
Over by the trees, Bloodhound took a deep breath. Rain was nice, washed all the old scents and industrial smog out of the air.    
  
They undid the clasps on their right glove. Some vitamin D couldn't hurt.  
  
Their bare hand was only exposed for a few seconds before they thrust it into the loamy soil. That was the good stuff. The cold mud squelched between their fingers. They leaned forward from their crouched position, sinking up to their elbow in the dirt.  
  
They swirled their arm around the mud then pulled it out. It was unrecognizable as a human limb. Perfect.  
  
Bloodhound sniffed the air. There was a faint scent of rot somewhere close. They scuttled towards the smell on all fours. The source was a cloudy puddle. Something yellowish was barely poking above the water. Bloodhound used their muddy hand to pull free the bottom half of a deer skull, green with putrid muck. They inhaled deeply. It smelled like raw sewage. This was good. This was a good time. The day was only getting better.  
  
They lifted their bare hand to the jagged line of teeth in the back of the mouth. For an herbivore, deer had some nasty chompers. Must help with the tough plant fibers. Bloodhound clacked their own teeth together thoughtfully. They missed hunting their own food and getting lost for days in the wilderness. Another downside of having a job.  
  
One tooth was loose. Bloodhound jiggled it in its socket until it came free. The root was yellowed, but not as dirty as the rest of the jaw. It gleamed in the noon day sun.  
  
Bloodhound stroked the slimy bone for a few more minutes, then tossed the jaw back in the puddle for someone to find later.  
  
They plunged their arm back in the mud to replenish its protective coating. They considered their left glove. Surely there was no harm in removing it. The only people close by were Bangalore and Gibraltar.  
  
Feeling scandalous, Bloodhound wiped their right hand on the grass and unfastened their other glove. The fresh air felt good on their skin. They shredded a few blades of grass and admired the green stains under their nails.  
  
A cluster of small frogs was sitting by another puddle, closer to the boundary between the Apex facilities and the forest. This puddle was full of clear water and surrounded by clumps of ferns and moss. Bloodhound scrambled closer and laid down to be eye level with the dull brown creatures. There was some frog spawn in one of the larger puddles. Bloodhound could see tiny tadpoles swimming  
around in the water.  
  
Bangalore looked over again to see Bloodhound splayed out on the ground like a starfish. Wasn't Bloodhound supposed to be a deadly hunter? Why were they playing in the mud? It had to be a tracking strategy. Was it an elaborate scheme to lower the other legends' guard? She shook her head and went back to target practice.  
  
"I saw them eating a raw egg with a straw once." Gibraltar chimed in, reloading his Havoc rifle. "Just cracked the side open and sucked the whole thing out. This isn't too bad."  
  
Now that they had access to both hands, Bloodhound was crafting a series of perfect mud balls to honor the frogs. They squeezed the moisture out of a double fistful of mud and picked out the larger grit.     
  
As they worked, their raven returned from its socializing with the other birds. Bloodhound waved her away from the frogs. She squawked with irritation and hopped away to peck through the pebbles at the base of a tree.  
  
The sun was lovely. The planet they were on didn't have seasons as much a perpetual spring fall cycle. This was somewhere in the spring, at the end of the rainy season and Bloodhound hadn't been able to get out as much as they would like, what with legend interviews, prepping for the Apex games, all while maintaining their mysterious persona. Maybe they could just relax today.  
  
Bloodhound considered the expanse of rich dirt they were lying on. The Allfather was testing them. Bloodhound could strip down to their underwear and bathe in the sea of mud before them.  
Or they could avoid weirding out their squad mates who were probably nervous enough with the first battle tomorrow.  
  
They were tired of constant vigilance and restraint. Time to live a little before they got their head taken off by a Kraber in a week. Bloodhound sat down on the ground and wrestled off their boots. They couldn't remember the last time they had taken off their socks, which they had to peel free. Bits of skin came off their toes, which once bare were promptly inserted into the dirt.         
  
It felt even better than murder.  



End file.
